


The Lonely Tourist

by tooberjoober



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9075349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tooberjoober/pseuds/tooberjoober
Summary: Alex goes to the city of love and ends up contemplating everything that he had ever done wrong and everything he wished to have happened differently.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Um okay so please shout at me in the comments because I HAVE THREE UNFINISHED FICS THAT I HAVEN'T WORKED ON IN FOREVER I'M SO SORRY JESUS. Anyways, hella angst ahoy. Hope you like it.  
> Song lyrics are in italics (although some of his own thoughts are too so it may get kinda confusing) the song is Tourist by Jon Cozart (otherwise known as paint, check him out he's great) um but yeah so I hope you like it and if you do please leave a comment/kudos

A vacation was never Alex's ideal way to spend his time. But the office was shut down for the week and what other time would he ever have the chance to visit Paris? He could just wander the city, let his thoughts roam as he did. A man alone in the city of lovers, the irony. _On the bright side,_ Alex mused, when he was getting off of his plane. _At least I avoided cliché._ He walked through the airport past reuniting families and lovers. He was only reunited with his suitcase, but that was all he expected and he was fine with that. He walked to the outside of the airport, pulling out his phone to make a call for a taxi. Other people around him were calling friends and loved ones, but he tried not to notice, focusing instead on the sun that was beginning to set.

Paris wasn't that big of a city. It was much smaller than his home city of New York, but still it was strange and overwhelming and seeing the Eiffel Tower it felt infinite. It was so different from New York, but at the same time it wasn't. He couldn't figure out how to describe it. Which was odd. Words had always been his strong point, but now, as a taxi drove him to his hotel, he couldn't find the words to describe what he was feeling. The easiest thing to say was that he felt like something was missing. He rummaged through his bag and handed the taxi driver a handful of euros, getting out of the car. He watched the driver leave, thought about waving to him, but he thought better of it and just turned to the hotel.

He looked up at his hotel, suitcase in hand. His hotel was in the seventh arrondissement, arrondissements are like little neighborhoods. The seventh arrondissement was a nice little place where the Eiffel Tower was so he could see the tower from his room. If he strained his eyes he could see the Champs-Élysses as well. Tomorrow morning he'd get up early and walk down the streets to the Champs-Élysses and the Arc de Triumph. The thought of it…didn't fill him with as much excitement as he would have imagined. This was supposed to be amazing, but some part of it felt pointless if he was _holding nobody's hand along the Champs-Élysées._

Alex sighed, calling up room service for a snack. _Why not play out the stereotype a bit?_ Alex thought with a smile. _I'll just be taking my time, breaking bread, sipping wine, meant for two._ He offered the man that brought his bread and wine a polite smile, warding off any kind of conversation. He loved conversation, but for whatever reason, tonight didn't feel like the night to chit-chat with the hotel staff.

He grabbed a croissant that had been delivered to his room along with a fancy bottle of wine. He poured himself a glass of wine before he took a bite of the pastry, opening the door to his balcony. He leaned over the railing, the wind ruffling his hair slightly, like there was some invisible person playing with his hair. He looked down and saw couples strolling along the street, arm in arm looking completely enamored with each other. He shouldn't have been surprised, it was the city of lovers after all.

Alex suddenly felt cold with no one beside him. He shook his head, swearing that it was only the wind. He spared the view and the couples one last glance before he scoffed slightly, turning his back to the city and walking back into his room. _It's a beautiful city for saps._ He closed his eyes, running his fingers through his hair and finishing his glass. He was too smart to fall for this city's romantic sappy bullshit.

_But turn out the lights, we're too clever for that._ A few more glasses of wine and Alex stumbled for the lights, falling onto his bed. He could just imagine that someone was there beside him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, fingers tangling in his hair. He could see him perfectly, hear him perfectly, hell the sheets even seemed to reek of that stupid cologne he doused himself in. But Alex knew when he opened his eyes he would be alone again.

Alex tossed and turned, desperately wishing that someone was there to hold him and lull him back to sleep. He couldn't sleep when there was no one beside him. It made him feel pathetic if hewas all alone again like a child. He almost reached out for his phone for the one person that might answer and help him. But Alex shook his head, pushing his phone away. He squeezed his eyes to keep them shut, covering his ears. _And I know, I know we're not in love._ He didn't love him, he knew that. And Alex was positive that he didn't love him.

Despite his fitful night of sleep, Alex kept his promise to himself. He took a cold shower in the morning to get any of the lingering effects of the wine away from him. He dressed up, nicer than he would if he was still at home, but Paris was a nicer city and it deserved some respect that his old kings college hoodie didn't grant.

Starting his walk through the early, Alex couldn't stop himself from thinking about him again. What a sight they'd be together, walking down the streets in the morning dawn. Both of the fashion disasters, together walking in peace. An arm around Alex's waist and Alex keeping one around the other's middle. Alex shook his head, fighting back a smile. _But we'd fool this old town with the view of us, thoughts from the tourist, alone._

Alex looked up at the Eiffel Tower. He had watched the building slowly but surely grow from an outline in the sky to an immediate reality. He tried not to see the appeal, not to feel the aura of the streets and the air. He didn't want to like this city. If only to spite the person he kept associating it with. _We could fall for the streets of Paris._ But at the same time there was something irresistible about the city. Something he kept pretending he didn't feel because he didn't want to.

_But the Eiffel's a joke and the punchline is me._ Alex sat on a bench, facing the Tower. His eyes weren't on the landmark though, they were on his phone, in his lap. He typed and retyped messages, trying to figure out just what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. He wondered how many ways there were to tell someone you missed them. How many ways you could tell them that you loved them more than anything.

He closed his eyes and he could see it. It was cold outside, but he was so warm underneath Thomas' hands. Everything about Thomas was warm, his hands, his lips, his voice, his eyes. Oh god those eyes, they made him melt even before they started screwing around. He had been leaving marks all over Alex, most below where anyone would see them but some were in plain sight, just so Thomas could see him flustered and grumbling excuses at work.

Alex had broken a promise. He said something they both promised not to say or think or feel. But still his big mouth wouldn't stay shut and amidst his ramblings and praise, he uttered the three words he never thought he'd say.

Thomas threw him out immediately. Alex was left sitting on his front porch, staring up at the door. He bit his lip fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over his cheeks.

_And you know, you know it's not funny, but we'd laugh till it was._ Alex wanted to laugh it off and pretend it never happened. He wanted so badly for things to just go back to the way they were before. But he couldn't ignore what he said and he came to the realization that he meant it. And that wasn't something he could just brush off. He'd only be hurting himself by pretending he didn't feel anything. Although admittedly, this didn't feel much better.

_Just the two of us, thoughts from the tourist, alone._ Alex turned his back on the Eiffel Tower. He didn't send any message to Thomas. He felt heavier than usual. He felt like there was someone beside him mocking his pain and his misery, but there was no one there. That person took the form of Thomas, his disgusted face when Alex revealed his feelings. Alex went to get a drink.

_And I know, I know that we tried to survive on a lie we couldn't endure._ Maybe they had been stupid to create such terms and specifics for their relationship. All the physicality and the tenderness, it would have led to feelings for one of them without a doubt. Alex just wondered why he had to be the one to have caught the feelings. If Thomas had developed feelings Alex would have readily accepted them. Maybe Alex had always had feelings for him. Maybe he was just doomed to be miserable, with or without him. Sometimes in the early hours of the morning when Thomas still held him, Alex felt like maybe there was something there. But he guessed not. Maybe it was stupid of him to think that Thomas could have feelings for him.

_So what's just one more._ Why couldn't Thomas have just pretended for a little bit? Thomas was always able to keep a straight face around a hickey covered Alex trying to explain away his bruises. He could always explain any unkempt appearance or tardiness. So why couldn't he try to just spare Alex's feelings for a second? Maybe Thomas really did just hate him.

_Thought from the tourist, imagining the two of us. Alone._


End file.
